


The Consequences of Being Late

by winteryserpent (silencedancer)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tomarry Dark Spring Exchange, nefarious plans, tom riddle is obsessed with himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silencedancer/pseuds/winteryserpent
Summary: Harry Potter is too late to save Ginny when she was taken down into the Chamber of Secrets.Written for Queenofallhell @ tumblr for the Tomarry Dark Spring Exchange.





	The Consequences of Being Late

“Ginny Weasley is dead, “ was the last thing Harry Potter had remembered. 

When he came to again, Ginny’s cold dead body was no longer in his arms and his head ached terribly. The room he found himself in was dark and even if he had his glasses, there was no way to see where he was, bound and laying on the floor. He strained to hear anything, but the most he could hear was the dripping of water somewhere off in the distance. When he shouted, his voice fell strangely flat, as if the sound around him had been altered. 

Harry Potter seemed to be utterly alone with no ready explanation as to what had happened. The only thing that he had was the voice that had informed him of Ginny’s demise, a voice that sounded eerily familiar.

Then, after an indeterminable amount of time, he heard footsteps, the sound of which were measured and even. A green light suddenly illuminated the room, only giving Harry the barest amount of warning before his captor rolled him over, revealing his identity. 

It was the boy from the diary, Tom Riddle, looking exactly as he had in that memory from fifty years ago. 

He stared in disbelief, unable to articulate the rush of thoughts going through his head. 

“You’re finally awake, I see. I was getting worried.” 

The flatness of Riddle’s voice made Harry question whether Riddle was really worried about him.

\----

Harry Potter was a corundum for Tom Riddle. A boy who felt far more familiar than he ought to have and not just in the superficial way. There was something that he had…felt when his soul brushed against the boy’s. Something that felt far too much like himself.

Ginny had become even more boring once he met Potter. He never particularly had time for the foibles of young impressionable girls who found him charming. His suspicion was that they liked him because he actually listened to them rather than talk over them. Girls were a particular font of information that most boys tended to dismiss and as he was fond of collecting secrets, being a listening partner for one or two of the Slytherin girls was always rewarding.

As Ginny Weasley was rewarding. Through her, he learned all he needed to know of this world and how it had changed since he was trapped within the pages of his diary. It was distressing to learn how he had fallen, but now with the boy who precipitated his downfall in his hands, the key to overcoming such an obstacle surely was in his hands now. 

It was not hard to stun Potter from behind with his cast away wand and to vanish Ginevra Weasley’s body. The search for her and the continued possibility of her life without a corpse as proof should hopefully provide sufficient enough distraction for Tom to get away from the Chamber. 

He did remember to pocket the diary, his old home, and the only piece of evidence that he was ever there. Tom Riddle intended to vanish with his prize so no one could bother him while he unraveled the enigma that was Harry Potter. Dumbledore would not get the best of him now. 

\----

Riddle did not speak often to his captive.

Once he asked how Harry defeated Voldemort. When Harry said truthfully that he had no idea, Riddle stomped off in irritation. Another time, he asked about the encounter in front of the Mirror of Erised. While he refused to answer the first time, Riddle did eventually coax the story out of him.

Harry wondered why Tom Riddle was so intensely interested in the dark lord who had given Harry his scar. Could they have known each other? 

(He did not want to admit to another, more frightening possibility: that this young handsome man _was_ Voldemort. He could not see how it could’ve happened, but this was a world of magic and he still was not entirely sure what was possible and what was not. Yet this was the thing that haunted him in his long hours of isolation whenever Tom left to do who knew what.)

His blood was taken, but otherwise was not hurt. Water and food was not withheld from him, even if the company was less than pleasant. Riddle obviously preferred his books and experiments to interacting with Harry, even when Harry attempted conversation with his captor. Most of the time the older boy wouldn’t even acknowledge Harry’s presence. When he did, it was with a curious, _hungry_ look that made Harry uncomfortable. 

Then one day it changed. 

Riddle knelt down in front of Harry, his face inquisitive as he touched his captive’s face, tracing his fingers along the side of the boy’s face and up to his scar. 

His fingers lingering on the scar, Riddle whispered, “I know who is in there and I intend on freeing him just as I freed myself.”

“What?!” said Harry, though it came out as a croaked whisper more than the shout he had intended.

Riddle laughed, the smile on his face at odds with the sinister sound. “You’re a vessel, a horcrux, just like the diary you had written in…the diary I had come from. I imagine you’ve already figured that out, however. The diary part that is. I don’t think you had any idea that you had a piece of me, of Lord Voldemort, in you.”

Harry stared. Riddle had confirmed all that he had feared and worst. Ginny’s death and Riddle’s sudden appearance were connected, that much was for sure, but it did not occur to him that there was a part of Voldemort in him. But as he thought about it, it made more sense than not. There was the parseltongue and the sorting hat’s insistence that he was a Slytherin…. The idea was more than he could handle.

“I won’t kill you like Miss Weasley, of course,” said Tom, ignoring Harry’s reaction, “All I really need is to turn you into me and trust me, I am very strong willed. People like me don’t stay dead easily. And once I bring myself back, we can find Voldemort together.” 

Almost tenderly, as if he considered Potter to be a great prize, Tom leaned in and kissed Harry on the forehead. 

“You’re lucky, Potter. If you didn’t contain part of my soul, you’d be dead too. I am the only person I care for after all.” Riddle brushed Harry’s hair back from his eyes fruitlessly and then kissed him properly on the lips. “I’ll recuse you, my soul,” he whispered.


End file.
